Mathew's journey of chasing the dream and finding himself

I come from Kerala, India. Malayali in Dubai. Classic.
Like many, I grew up with stories of dreams coming true in Dubai,  a place where life was wrapped in luxuries.

So, at 22, freshly graduated, I packed my bags and moved to Dubai for my first job in a logistics company, ready to start the best chapter of my life. However, what I walked into was nothing that I had expected.

There were gleaming office towers, just not mine. I worked on the shop floor monitoring fleet operations, managing and directing workers- mostly in broken sentences and signs because I didn't speak their language. Every interaction was a struggle, every instruction a challenge. There were moments I felt completely invisible, like an outsider in my own role.

Home was hard as well. I lived in a cramped one-bedroom apartment with six others, sharing a bunk bed pushed against the wall and my belongings crammed into a corner. Privacy didn’t exist. Sleep was a gamble, constantly interrupted by the sound of alarms that weren’t mine. Some nights, exhaustion hit so hard, I’d lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I had made the biggest mistake of my life. But even in those moments, I refused to let doubt win. I constantly told myself this was temporary—that every struggle had an expiration date if I worked hard enough.

But six months in, I hit a wall. The exhaustion, the frustration, the feeling of being stuck—it all became too much. So, I quit.

You’d think that moment would have felt like freedom, but it didn’t. I wasn’t walking away with a backup plan or a safety net. I had no idea what came next—only that I couldn’t keep waking up feeling like I was drowning. Going back home wasn’t an option. Not even for a second. If this city was going to test me, I was going to push back harder.

To take back control, I got my driving license. It doesn’t sound like much, but it meant I finally had options. I started looking for something new—anything to get me back on my feet. That’s when a blessing came down, a job at IKEA. At that time, I didn’t have anything to look forward to so I took on this lifeline. A chance to rebuild. 

I walked miles across the store floors every day, helping customers, answering their questions, and making sure they left with more than just a product. I wasn’t just selling furniture—I was solving problems, anticipating needs, and making people feel heard. Over time, I got so good at it that I could read people the moment they walked in. Their posture, their hesitation, the way their eyes scanned the store—I knew what they needed before they even asked. And I loved that. IKEA wasn’t just a job; it was where I found my rhythm, my confidence. It taught me that understanding people wasn’t about words alone—it was about paying attention, about truly seeing them. I spent almost three years there, growing in ways I never expected. It turned those tough early days around, shaping me into the person I am today. 

But the hunger to do more, to push myself further, never faded. And that’s what eventually led me to Alaan.

Here, I’m not just doing a job—I’m growing every day, learning with every challenge, and working with a team that makes it all worth it. Sharib leads in a way that makes you want to do better, to show up, to contribute more. The team isn’t just a group of colleagues—we challenge each other, support each other, and keep raising the bar. I feel extremely valued for the work I do, and that makes all the difference.

Looking back, Dubai didn’t hand me the life I had imagined. It handed me something better—the kind of struggle that forces you to grow and to fight for what you really want. I was just another boy from Kochi who left behind comfort and familiarity, chasing something bigger, not knowing what I’d find. And maybe that’s the real dream. Not the easy path, not the overnight success. Just the chance to prove to yourself that you can build something real, no matter where you start.

Life didn’t hand me anything on a platter, but it gave me something far more valuable—it taught me how to fight for what I want. And for that, I wouldn’t change a single thing.